


Figureheads

by KingCorvidae



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, barely worth mention as it's not the character's intent but better safe than sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 10:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17547698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingCorvidae/pseuds/KingCorvidae
Summary: Danny finds Steve after his loss and slowly realizes something isn't right.





	Figureheads

**Author's Note:**

> i'm baaaaaaack. it's been almost exactly a year since i started writing Expressions, so isn't that a nice little anniversary?
> 
> i'm stuck on an original story bc i feel like my writing has been so stale and boring lately but that's perfect for this bc it's matching the overall trajectory of this show lmaooooooooo. that's what i get for falling in love w characters from a procedural cop drama.
> 
> anyways, if the ending seems abrupt that's bc it's 1am, i have to work tomorrow, and i'm sick of staring at this. it's been a week.
> 
> also this is completely unrelated to the expressions series

The door to Steve's room was still hanging open and Danny could hear him moving around, so he didn't bother knocking before he went in. Steve glanced up at him before putting the shirt he was holding in his suitcase without a word.

Danny leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He watched Steve continue to pack for a few minutes before the silence finally got to him and he spoke.

"Are you at least coming home after this?"

"I guess," Steve said, shuffling a few items around so they lay more evenly in his case.

"You guess? What do you mean 'you guess'?" Danny demanded. Steve gave a half-hearted shrug.

"I dunno. It just feels like... like maybe I don't have a lot to go back for," he said. Danny uncrossed his arms and took an involuntary step forward.

"What?" he asked. Steve avoided his gaze.

"Back home," he muttered. "It doesn't seem like there's much reason to go back."

Danny walked up to Steve and placed a firm hand on his cheek, forcing Steve to meet his eyes. He raised his other hand to keep Steve from turning his head away, rubbing his thumb across the wiry hair of Steve's beard and trying not to think about how handsome he looked with it.

"What are you talking about, Steve?" he asked again. Steve jerked away from him and Danny let his arms fall back to his sides as Steve started pacing.

"I don't know! It just feels like there's nothing - nobody - left there," Steve said. Danny's heart sank.

"Nobody left? There's the - the whole team, your friends, your family," he argued. Steve shook his head.

"I don't have any family there, Danny."

Danny blinked, feeling like he'd been slapped. He stared at Steve until he stopped pacing and eyed Danny warily.

"What about me?" Danny finally asked, his voice softer than he intended. Steve looked away again.

"I guess," he muttered. He lifted a hand and rubbed at his beard where Danny had touched him. "I should shave." He walked past Danny and left the room without another word.

Danny didn't move, stunned as he stood there and stared at Steve's still-open suitcase. There were only a couple pairs of shirts and pants in it, a few sock rolls and several pairs of briefs that Danny could see. Most noticeable was the gun lying on top of the clothing. Danny took a step forward, hoping to spot the gun's usual companion, but he only saw a rolled-up jacket tucked against the side of the case.

Steve's badge was nowhere to be seen.

\---

In the aftermath they flew home on a regular commercial airline.

Steve booked the three of them a row of what must have been the cheapest seats in the back of the plane. He let Junior take the window seat and he graciously allowed Danny to have the aisle. He settled himself into the middle, opened the book he'd picked up in one of the gift stores, and didn't turn a page for the next two hours.

Danny watched him out of the corner of eye the entire time. Steve hadn't moved an inch, not even to try and stretch his obnoxiously long legs, which had to be getting cramped. He had just been staring at the first page of his book and breathing in a noticeably forced manner, like he was trying to get more oxygen than the air in the plane could provide.

Junior had glanced over at Steve a few times, clearly curious about his boss's strange behavior, but had politely looked away after Steve hadn't reacted to him.

Danny continued to watch him throughout the flight. Steve eventually gave up the act and put the book away, folding his hands in his lap and staring blankly at the in-flight movie. Danny almost told him that he would be more convincing if he had made even a single move to find a pair of headphones, but he managed to bite his tongue.

He barely refrained from speaking up when Steve refused the in-flight meal. The only thing that stopped him was the thought of the argument it would start.

Around an hour later he noticed that Steve's eyelids were drooping, and within minutes he was obviously struggling to stay awake. Danny motioned a flight attendant over and asked for a pillow and a blanket in a hushed tone.

Steve was dead asleep by the time she brought him the requested items, so Danny took the liberty of tucking the blanket around Steve himself. He hesitated before positioning the pillow against his own shoulder and pulling Steve down so his head was resting against it. Junior shot him another curious look, but Danny shook his head at him, so he let it drop without comment.

Steve let out a soft noise and sank down against Danny, still fast asleep. Danny lightly rested his cheek on the top of Steve's head and hoped his friend could get at least a few hours of decent sleep. He desperately needed the rest.

As Steve slept, Danny thought about his odd behavior throughout the last month. He understood Steve's need to isolate himself after Joe's death, but he didn't understand why Steve had been so reluctant to tell him where he had been staying during his absence. At least until Danny had finally had enough and asked Jerry to track down Steve's location.

Turning his head so that Steve's hair was just barely tickling his nose, Danny pressed a kiss to his forehead. He couldn't bring himself to care whether Junior saw it or not. Steve hadn't been himself for a while and the worry was making Danny sick.

He sighed and recalled the other disturbing conversation he'd had with Steve, right after he had come out of the room where his hostage was, covered in blood.

\---

_"This isn't you," Danny said, following Steve to his room. Steve barely glanced at him as he stripped off his filthy shirt and tossed it on the bed. Danny immediately noticed how thin he had gotten._

_"Maybe it is now," Steve replied flatly._

_"It isn't," Danny insisted. "You don't have to do this. Why's it have to be us? How come you can't just tell the local authorities about his guy, let them handle it?"_

_"I can't trust them," Steve said, pulling a clean shirt on. Danny sat on the bed and rubbed his hands over his face._

_"Then let the Navy know! Let them take care of it, not you and your band of not-so-merry men!"_

_"I have to do this myself. It's my responsibility."_

_"Says who?" Danny exploded. "This is one of the dumbest ideas you've ever had, and trust me, my friend, that's a hard bar to pass. Going after this guy like this... half your team is retired!"_

_"And? We still got more done than anyone else has so far," Steve shot back. Danny sighed._

_"Leave this to someone else, Steve... come back to Hawaii. You gotta miss it, being here in Montana for this long. There's no ocean, no sand getting everywhere, no reason for you to, uh, whip your shirt off every five seconds or whatever," he said. Steve gave him a small, crooked smile._

_"Never thought I'd hear you selling Hawaii this hard, Danno."_

_Danny's heart swelled at the use of the nickname and he smiled back at Steve. They just stayed there grinning at each other and, for a moment, everything was all right._

_And then the grin slipped off Steve's face and his gaze faded back into the dull, empty stare that had been present since Danny had arrived. He turned away and headed for his closet._

_"Start packing," he said, pulling out his suitcase. "I'd pack light."_

_Danny sighed again, all the fight going out of him. He heaved himself off the bed and left the room without another word._

_If he found the energy, he'd try to convince Steve to drop his quest for revenge again later._

\---

Danny was torn out of his thoughts as Steve twitched and jerked awake with a gasp. He struggled to free his arms from the blanket before he looked up at Danny and frowned. His eyes were red and watery.

"You okay?" Danny asked him quietly. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and threw the blanket on the floor.

"Bathroom," he grunted and stood up. Danny quickly got up as well, scrambling into the aisle to get out of Steve's way before he ran him over.

He was gone for a long time and Danny kept ignoring Junior's constant concerned looks until he finally spoke.

"Is he all right?"

"I don't know," Danny replied truthfully. "I hope so, but I, uh... I don't think so."

"He'll be fine," Junior said, much more confidently than Danny felt. "He always is."

"Right. Always fine," Danny repeated. He glanced back again, just in time to see Steve exiting the bathroom. He shuffled up the aisle and sat down, pulling the blanket up from the floor and spreading it over his lap. "All good?" Danny asked.

Steve barely nodded in response before tilting his head back against the seat and shutting his eyes, but not before Danny noticed how bloodshot they were. He reached over and grasped Steve's forearm tightly, leaning in close to his ear.

"We're almost home, babe," he whispered.

Steve didn't reply. He didn't move his arm away from Danny's hand either though, and relief washed over him. At least Steve was letting him try to offer some comfort. It was a good sign, so Danny decided not to embarrass him on the plane and bring up the tear leaking from the corner of his eye.

\---

It was a full two days after they got back before Danny saw Steve again.

They arrived in Hawaii late Friday afternoon and Danny had to leave straight from the airport to pick Charlie up from school. A few hours later he was picking up Grace, and the rest of the day was spent catching up with his kids.

Saturday somehow got away from him as well and by the time he was dropping them off at Rachel's on Sunday evening, he realized he hadn't heard from Steve since they had parted in the terminal.

A crushing wave of guilt ran through him and he turned from Rachel's driveway and headed straight for Steve's.

The house was dark when Danny pulled up, and if it hadn't been for his truck in the driveway, Danny would have thought he wasn't home. He let himself in and looked around for any sign of Steve. A single light out on the deck caught his eye just as he was about to call out. He walked over and slid the screen door open, frowning when he caught sight of Steve.

He was sitting on the ground, sprawled out a few feet from the nearest chair like he didn't have the energy to reach it. Danny took a few cautious steps towards him and stopped dead when he saw the gun hanging loosely in his grip. His breath caught in his chest and he approached Steve carefully. Steve looked up as Danny knelt down next to him but didn't speak.

"Why don't you give that to me?" Danny suggested quietly. He slipped his fingers through Steve's around the handle of the weapon and tugged lightly.

"Huh? I was just about to clean it," Steve said. Danny looked around at the conspicuous lack of cleaning equipment.

"You don't need to clean it. Give it to me."

"It'll rust-"

"Steve," Danny pleaded, desperation making his voice crack.

Steve blinked and let go of the gun. Danny checked that the safety was on before sliding it away from them. Steve looked after it, his brows knit in confusion before realization cleared his expression and he turned back to Danny.

"I wasn't going to-"

"Don't say it," Danny said, scooting closer so that their shoulders were pressed together. Steve shot him a hurt look.

"Why would you think-"

"God damn it, Steve!" Danny interrupted, the fear making him lose his temper. "Can you blame me? Running off to Montana for a month with no warning, talking about not, uh, having a reason to come back here. I come out here and find you with a gun you _claim_ to be cleaning without any cleaning supplies... I mean, Jesus Christ, Steve, you're not making this easy for me!"

Steve pulled away and stared at him with eyes as wide as saucers.

"I'm-"

"You're what?" Danny demanded. "You're what, Steven?"

"I'm sorry!" Steve yelled. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't want to dig all this shit up, I didn't want to leave, I didn't want Joe to sacrifice himself for me... I didn't want any of this!"

"Is that what this is about?" Danny asked. "About Joe?"

"No," Steve denied, but he wouldn't meet Danny's eyes.

"He loved you."

"I know."

"He wanted you to be safe and happy and - and have a full life. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't," Danny said.

"It was a waste," Steve snapped. "He could've saved himself."

"You think he wasted his life by saving yours?" Danny asked, shocked.

"I DIDN'T ASK HIM TO!" Steve roared, making Danny jump. "I didn't ask him to save me, it was all my fault..."

"You didn't have to ask him, he knew exactly what he was doing. It's not your fault," Danny soothed.

"But it is! None of this would've happened if it weren't for me. It's my... my..." Steve's voice broke and his face crumpled as a loud, ugly sob tore out of him, his entire body shaking with the force of it.

Danny sat frozen for seconds, minutes, _hours_ , before Steve's hacking coughs as he struggled to breathe through his tears snapped him out of it. He reached for him but his hands hovered uselessly over Steve's arms, landing in one spot and then fluttering away, unsure if his touch was welcome or not and scared that he would somehow do more harm than good.

"Steve, Steve, babe, it's all right! It's okay, I'm here, I'm right here," he chanted. Another punishing sob escaped Steve's chest and he leaned most of his weight onto Danny, who could do nothing other than circle his arms around Steve and hold him tightly. "Let it out, baby, just let it out," he murmured. Steve turned in his arms and pressed his face against Danny's chest. He immediately felt the tears soaking through his shirt.

"I'm sorry," Steve choked out through his sniffles. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You don't know... Steven, you just lost a, uh, very important figure in your life," Danny said, as if Steve really needed the reminder. He rubbed his hand over Steve's back and kissed the top of his head. "It's okay not to be okay. It's normal," he whispered.

"I feel so guilty. He should have let me get shot," Steve said thickly.

"Please don't say that," Danny begged. "You scare the hell out of me, talking like that."

"I'm not - I'm not gonna do anything, Danny."

"You're not making a very convincing case for yourself right now," Danny said gently. Steve gave another loud sniff and rubbed his face against Danny's shirt.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Don't apologize." Danny continued to stroke Steve's back for a while before he spoke again. "D'you remember how I was after Matty died?"

"Yeah."

"Right. I was a mess, huh?" Steve nodded and curled his hand in the loose fabric of Danny's pant leg. "Yeah... and you, uh, you were there for me. Even though I kept telling you to leave me the hell alone, you were there. So I'm - I'm gonna be here for you, all right? No matter what you need."

Steve nodded and let out a shuddering sigh.

"I don't deserve you."

"Probably not," Danny agreed. "But you got me anyways, whether you like it or not. Kinda hope you like it though."

"I do," Steve whispered. "I like having you." Danny smiled into his hair and hugged him closer.

"Good. You wanna move this party inside now, or...?"

"I'd rather stay out here, if you don't mind," Steve said. "I need the air."

"Sure thing," Danny replied. "I'm just gonna..."

He stretched out an arm and snagged the cushion from the nearest chair, arranging it behind himself before he laid down and rested his head on it. He pulled Steve along with him, hoping that he would settle down with him and they could just take a break and enjoy each other's company for a bit. However, Steve surprised him again by collapsing mostly on top of him, one arm slung across his chest and his head resting on Danny's shoulder. Danny lifted a hand and cradled the back of Steve's head, scratching lightly at his short hair. Steve let out a deep sigh and moved a little closer.

They lay there for a long time, Danny trying to offer what comfort he could without words. He kept rubbing a steady rhythm along Steve's back, almost lulling himself to sleep as the adrenaline from the emotionally charged conversation drained out of him. Just as his eyes slipped closed, he heard Steve's voice.

"Danny?"

"Yeah, babe."

"Please don't hit me."

Danny opened his eyes to ask him what the hell he was talking about, but he didn't even have time to open his mouth before Steve lifted himself onto his elbows, licked his lips, and kissed Danny firmly. Danny froze, unable to respond as Steve lingered for a moment and when he finally pulled back, Danny just stared dumbly at him.

Steve stared back, fear creeping into his eyes the longer Danny stayed silent. He wanted to reassure him, to tell Steve that it was fine that he'd kissed him, that it was more than fine, it was _amazing_ , but the shock had turned his tongue to lead and he couldn't force the words out. Steve began to shift uncomfortably and he started to sit up.

"Danny, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Don't," Danny choked out. He reached up and grabbed the front of Steve's shirt, trying to tug him back.

"Danny?"

"Don't go," he said, his brain still completely fried by what had just happened.

"I - okay. I'm not going anywhere," Steve promised. "I'm staying here." He settled back down on his elbows above Danny and gazed at him. After a minute he reached up and brushed his hand over Danny's hair. Danny closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, desperately soaking up the contact as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He had wanted this, wanted _Steve_ , for years and the idea of finally getting him made his heart pound. The thought of Steve's current state of mind, however, made him hesitate. Steve probably wasn't thinking straight, still reeling from the trauma of losing Joe, and was most likely reaching out for solace in the one way he knew would guarantee a result. Whether Steve expected the result to be good or bad, Danny couldn't say, but either way the implication didn't sit right with him. He was bracing himself to tell Steve all of this when he started talking again.

"All this happening, it made me think... I didn't want to die without doing that at least once," Steve confessed. "I hope it didn't ruin anything between us."

"No. It didn't ruin anything," Danny reassured him. "And I don't wanna die without doing it again," he added without thinking. All thoughts of letting Steve down with a gentle reminder of his recent loss flew out of Danny's head as Steve gave him a brilliant smile. He basked in the radiance of Steve's face for a moment before he found his voice again. "So we're doing this?" he asked.

"I think so."

"No, no, no 'I think so'. I need a yes or a no," Danny told him. "I can't jump into this, Steve, I just can't."

"Okay, no jumping. We can take it slow."

"Why are we taking it at all?" Danny burst out. He could feel himself getting more frantic the longer he had to overthink things. "Why'd you even kiss me?" Steve frowned at him.

"I told you, I didn't wanna die without doing it."

"Yeah, but _why_? Why did you wanna kiss me? Were you just, uh, curious, or, or just looking for a one-night stand, or were you more interested in a friends with benefits kind of deal? 'Cause lemme tell you, I feel, uh, a little too strongly about you for any of those options to sound that good to me. I'm definitely in for more of a long term thing and-"

Steve ducked down and cut him off with another kiss. By the time he pulled away, Danny was panting.

"I thought I was the one having a breakdown here," Steve joked. Danny didn't open his eyes.

"I'm being serious," he said quietly. "I can't do casual with you, Steve." There was a short silence and then Danny heard shuffling and felt Steve's warm breath next to his ear.

"Then it's a good think I don't want anything casual," Steve whispered.

"So what do you want?"

"You."

Danny smiled and opened his eyes. Steve smiled back at him, and while he looked happier, Danny could still see the grief in his eyes. He reached up and cupped Steve's face in his hands.

"I want you to see someone," he said.

"What?"

"A - a grief counselor, or we can make another appointment with Doctor Carlin, but I want you to talk to someone. Other than me," he added as Steve opened his mouth. "You were scaring the hell out of me with all that talk in Montana. And coming out here and finding you with that gun? Saying you wished Joe had let you get shot? Ten years off my life, Steven." Steve buried his face into Danny's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I really did just forget the cloth and oil." Danny sighed and put his hand on the back of Steve's neck.

"I believe you," he said. "But I still want you to see someone."

"All right," Steve agreed, the stifled yawn easy to hear in his voice.

"Tired, huh?" Danny asked him, massaging at the base of his skull. Steve nodded. "Well, I'd carry you to bed, but that would just be a, uh, comedy of errors neither of us needs right now."

"Right," Steve snorted. "Not sure how much fun I'd be once I got there anyways. I don't even want to move right now."

"Steve, no, I didn't mean it like..." Danny trailed off as Steve lifted his head and kissed his cheek.

"I know what you meant," he said. "I just don't want to - to disappoint you or anything."

"You disappoint me every day at work," Danny teased. "Why's this any different?" Steve looked at him solemnly.

"It just is. I don't want... this, you and me, this is too important to screw up, okay?"

"Hey, hey, I'm joking," Danny reassured him. "It's important to me too, all right? I, uh... I really love you, Steve. I know we say it, but I - I just love you," he finished lamely.

"Yeah?" Steve asked, a shy grin creeping onto his lips.

"Yeah," Danny said. "And I wanna do this right. Even if that means taking another nine years, but I want you to be okay. I want us to be solid."

"Better not be another nine years," Steve muttered. "I really would have to shoot myself." Danny smacked his arm.

"You're not even a little bit funny," he informed him.

"But you love me?" Steve asked, his face open and unguarded as he stared at Danny and broke his heart with that simple question.

"'Course I do," he said. Steve closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

"Good." He laid his head back on Danny's shoulder and settled in again. "I love you too."

An actual bed clearly wasn't in their near future, so Danny wrapped his arms around Steve and held him close. He silently wished there were an easier solution to all of Steve's problems and insecurities, but from the loss of his brother, Danny knew that it was a long and oftentimes painful process to overcome the guilt and self-blame.

But as Steve quietly started snoring in his ear, Danny had an unusually positive feeling that it would all work out.

They would heal.


End file.
